


A New Beginning's Puzzle

by horrorriz, verovex



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Crack, Do you wanna build a submarine, Ed the Dog just wants head scratches, Fluff, M/M, Minor Injuries, Paranoid Parents ft. Oswald and Barbara, Riz & Vero don't know what humour is, Subtle flirting, Thompkean in the Making, but we tried
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-27
Updated: 2019-02-27
Packaged: 2019-11-06 17:20:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,963
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17943929
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/horrorriz/pseuds/horrorriz, https://archiveofourown.org/users/verovex/pseuds/verovex
Summary: Building a submarine comes with a set of problems and lingering feelings Ed and Oswald aren’t equipped for.





	A New Beginning's Puzzle

**Author's Note:**

> The idea stemmed from [this.](https://twitter.com/horrorriz/status/1098774537628459009)
> 
> From Vero: I swear I was just kinda here, Riz is the mastermind.

*

Oswald had prepared a large warehouse for their puzzle of an escape plan. Boxes and shipping containers with various parts littered the damp space. Stacked on top of each other, some opened, some not.

Ed had meandered from standing hunched over three plastic folding tables covered with blueprints and scribbled notes, to walking around with a checklist, laying out the contents of the boxes in rows sorted by similar parts.

Oswald groaned in mild frustration over his partner’s obsessive desire for organization, plopping down in one of the chairs nearby with a heavy drop, dust scattering from the impact. A cloud formed around him, causing him to cough loudly and making his eyes glassy. His attention moved from watching Ed, rotating the chair away, to peer down to the instructions in front of him, blinking. Normally, this type of planning was nothing new for him. But the way Ed had this worked out, and Oswald’s slowly diminishing motivation to participate, had Oswald throwing his head back in defeat, before even making an attempt to begin.

Of course they needed an out from the city. Was this the only somewhat plausible way to go about it? Yes. Was he happy about the somewhat forced way Ed described it as: _“bonding from solving a problem and creating something together”_? No.

Since their most recent reconciliation, things had been markedly… different. It didn’t line up quite like the other attempts to make up and start anew. Ed was different. He seemed especially tired, sluggish, much too exhausted to keep up banter or a feud of any kind. There was less of a threat of betrayal, both sides too worn to waste more time on mutual fear of the other. Oswald couldn’t direct energy to dwell on matters which had once meant everything, the significance of past transgressions had started to fade more and more as each day passed.

In a city so damned, with nothing left for either of them, the only thing certain was how they still had each other. Something they did not plan to lose again any time soon. Figuratively, they’d hold each other’s hands through the onslaught of darkness, until they could eventually reach the bright sun at the end of the line, and take a fresh breath of freedom. If this involved being hand-in-hand literally too, Oswald wouldn’t complain.

“Oswald?” Ed tapped his shoulder making the smaller man spin the chair around. “You promised we’d do this together.”

“Yes, well you also promised a way out.”

“I did, but that involves assistance from you.”

“I’m not an engineer or something even remotely like it, Ed. More a man of wit, tactical planning gathered through observation, legal loopholes, and hiding paper trails. Not… this,” Oswald gesticulated around them. “This, I am horribly out of my depth.”

“But you could… do it, I mean. You could learn. I think you’d be a better fit in this field than you give yourself credit for. With your brain and creative solutions, you could build anything you set your mind to.”

Admittedly, the praise made Oswald blush, just a tiny bit. He hoped Ed didn’t notice. “I… suppose I could offer my assistance to a degree. I am no use for much physical labour with this leg though.”

“Of course.”

Ed took a step closer, leaning down in a manner that caused Oswald’s nerves to flutter. Lucky for the stuttering in his chest, Ed was only reaching around him to grab a mallet from the table, handing it to Oswald with a gentle smile.

“Let’s get started then?”

Not long after, Oswald was standing with said mallet over a previously smooth piece of metal, now smashed into an unrecognizable form that barely resembled the shape of what it needed to be. Oswald had attempted to add a piece to it, under Ed’s instructions would fit _‘as snug as a bug in a rug’_ , only it had not. Or, Oswald had misunderstood the directions, which gave him an uneasy feeling of failure and frustration, which only served to light a fire underneath him that then put him in a fit of rage, now smashing the poor, unsuspecting, metal slabs.

Ed peeled off his face shield, the racket behind him disrupting his usage of the welding machine. He flicked off the power, running over to Oswald. Ed scolded him briefly, then sighed, proceeding to show him how to properly follow the plans.

“You need to do it in this _exact order_ and angle for it to fit,” perhaps his tone wasn’t nearly as patient as it could’ve been, as the humiliation only further fed Oswald’s frustration.

A single, more focused, successful hit echoed around the workshop, then Oswald's second hit managed to not be on the correct target at all, immediately followed by a scream of pain, warped quickly into distress at likely breaking something on his ring and pinky finger.

Ed dropped the helmet before he even had the chance to put it on again, rushing over to Oswald’s side. He placed one hand at Oswald’s mid-back, coddling the wrist of his hurt hand in his other. There was an intense sting of worry that struck Ed at the sound of Oswald’s cry, and now his trembling.

“Oswald!” Ed called, as the shorter man continued to clutch at the hand Ed was trying to get a look at, “Oswald, are you alright?”

“No!” Oswald whipped around, forcing Ed to step back. “Does it look like I'm alright? Stop looking at me with those damn doe eyes, shut up and help!”

The words came out faster than he had time to think them through. Luckily, Ed didn’t seem to notice or just didn’t care, since he simply ran off to get a first aid kit. Oswald sat back down in the chair from earlier, waited, rocking himself back and forth in vain attempts to dull the pain.

Ed paced uncomfortably in front of the kit hanging on the wall, pulling out the items he’d need. This mishap would only hinder their already small progress. Oswald was an essential piece to this ongoing puzzle, they’d been destined to rejoin forces, ultimately maybe they’d always meant to be right here, doing this very thing. Even though it resulted in an unforeseen injury. Sure, Edward was a man of logic, always predominantly essential in his Riddler persona. When it came to Oswald, logic seemed outweighed by uncertain sentiments. Especially this union, the stronghold of them working together again. It was something else. Confusing. Extra. There was nothing else more satisfying for the Riddler than the flair for dramatics.

This however? Oswald getting hurt? Maybe not this kind of drama.

Ed looked down as the dog that shared his name pushed past him, traipsing over to Oswald’s side, wiggling at his legs before sitting down, licking aimlessly at his feet, before looking up and whimpering softly.

“Yes Edward, I agree. All of this has been such a nuisance,” the dog nudged his shin. “Thank you though, friend. You always know how to raise my spirits.”

Ed approached them, raising his brow as he looked between them, placing the items from the first aid kit on the table behind Oswald. “Are you talking to the dog? More importantly, are you saying you prefer the dog’s company over mine?”

Pain temporarily subsided, Oswald smirked, “what, Ed? Jealous?” Oswald tapped his uninjured hand against his good knee, the dog looked up at him, getting the picture as he tried to jump into Oswald’s lap, but needed some help along the way. Oswald assisted with getting him settled after scooping him up, petting him sweetly as he stared at Ed while doing so, deviousness causing a flint in his eyes.

Ed looked away, absentmindedly correcting his glasses against the bridge of his nose. “No. Of course not.” He reached for the bandage from the table, crouching next to Oswald. “Give me your hand.”

Reluctantly, Oswald laid his hurt hand over the chair’s arm, into Ed’s caring and surprisingly warm ones. A surge of discomfort spread over his skin as Ed cleaned the dirt from the hammer away.

“It was a clean crush, I think, but we’re going to need to make a trip to the clinic for this, Oswald. I don’t have the proper equipment for metacarpal fractures in this bunker of ours,” Ed said as he wrapped the bandage best he could, nostalgia settling in for the last time he’d taken care of Oswald’s injuries.

Oswald sighed as Ed finished. At least he couldn’t unwittingly clench this fist shut now, causing a worse injury. This was very much a band-aid solution. He knew that if he didn’t want there to be any permanent damage, they’d need to make the trip out. He reached over to move the dog from his lap, when he realized he wasn’t even there. The dog had instead used leverage from the chair’s arm and backside to jump onto the table behind him at some point while Ed had been tending to him.

To his horror, he noticed the blueprints behind him were torn and drenched with dog slobber, clearly having been chewed on. Oswald and Ed couldn’t prevent what happened next, both aghast as the dog picked up a loose screw into his mouth, and with a sickening, sloppy gulp, swallowed it.

“Edward, NO!” They both yelled out.

The dog tilted his head to look at both of them, taking a few steps towards his owner to pant heavily in his face, and wag his tail innocently.

Ed sighed, studying the mess on the table, from the torn up plans to the several missing screws. “Oh dear.”

Oswald stood from the chair, reaching to pick up the dog from the table.

“Oswald, let me—”

“No,” he quickly retreated from Ed’s outstretched arms. “He is my responsibility, I will carry him.”

Ed gave a final glance at the mess on the table, then back to Oswald desperately clutching the dog to his chest, “I suppose we better get you both some proper medical attention.”

*

“For the _last_ time, Oswald. I am not a veterinarian.” Lee walked out of the stock room, tray in hand, with Oswald following closely behind, Ed a step behind. Oswald handed Ed the dog, before turning back to her.

“You’re a doctor, correct?” He pressured.

“Well yes but that doesn’t mean their anatomy is even remotely simil—”

“Wonderful! So I trust you to be able to help him!”

“He's either going to throw it up or shit it out, relax already.” Halfway down the hall she stopped and turned to Oswald, giving him a more sympathetic expression. “I’ve already explained I can’t. I’m sorry.”

She continued into an open patient room, currently with only one occupant, pausing in-step before Oswald could follow her. “Now if you don’t mind, I have more pressing matters with real _human_ patients.”

“Lee? What’s the holdup? Your poor, sarcastic bedside manner is enough without keeping us waiting on top of it.” Barbara perked up, watching as Lee entered the room, putting the tray down on a small rolling table and pushing it towards her.

“I’m sorry Barbara, Oswald refused to leave,” she peered over her shoulder as Oswald followed her into the room but kept his distance, standing only a few feet into the room, Ed in the doorway. “And continues to refuse to leave. Now, where were we?”

“You were about to deliver a potential death sentence to my nugget. Something along the lines of, ‘oh, well we’re having a little bit of an irregular heartbeat here. Hold on, I need to get something,’” Barbara said mockingly, with an edge of concern. “Then disappeared for fifteen minutes.”

“This is very common, your baby is fine. We’ll try to get an EKG done, but everything is fine,” Lee reassured, tossing her a new bottle of vitamins. "These were what I went to find."

At this news, Oswald’s face lit up with determination, striding over to the two. Ed awkwardly followed, trying to find a decently comfortable position to hold the dog in his arms.

“As this wretched city’s only remaining authority, I demand you to rescue my dog!” Oswald interrupted.

“Here we go again…” Lee mumbled, rolling her eyes, earning a grin from Barbara.

She maneuvered around Oswald, nearly pushing the trolly into him until he stepped out of her way, earning a gawk. She opened a nearby cabinet, shelving some of the excess items she’d brought up from the stock room.

Ed stepped closer to her, close enough to whisper out of Oswald’s earshot. “You know he won’t stop until you help him. He’ll do whatever it takes. Please, for both our sakes, and… this… dog's.”

Lee tilted her head back, releasing a breath as Ed took a step back, closer to Oswald. “Fine.”

“How degrading,” Barbara teased, moving off the patient table and wrapping her full-length coat around her shoulders. “Reducing our beloved doctor to a vet. You should ask Oswald what its name is. You know, to put the right name on the insurance claim and all.”

Lee furrowed her brow, confused. Oswald put the dog onto a different bed, waiting impatiently. “Why, what’s his name?”

Oswald shrugged, Ed whitened.

“Edward,” Barbara provided, elongating the name more than necessary.

Lee paused, grinning ear to ear. “So, what you’re saying is… we’d have to put… _Edward Cobblepot_ on the medical records?”

Ed flushed immediately, Oswald fidgets with his fingers currently running soothingly over the dog’s back.

“You two are a menace together,” Oswald says after a minute of laughter from both women, before wildly gesturing at the dog. “Can you please get on with it?”

“Sure, so when did little _Edward_ swallow the screws?” Lee asked, approaching the dog with new gloves in hand.

“Less than two hours ago.”

“Has he had anything else to eat?”

“What? No.”

“Well since it wasn’t that long ago, we can just make Edward vomit.”

At this, Oswald and Ed take a few steps back, both appearing queasy. Lee turned to stare at them.

“Seriously? That’s what makes you two uncomfortable?” They both nod. Lee glances at Barbara in disbelief, who also looks like she might be sick. She mostly gets a free pass. “The three of you— _get out_. Your darling Edward will be fixed up soon.”

An awkward ten-minute silence in the hallway later, Lee called out that they could come back in. Oswald had had it in his mind the dog wasn’t going to make it and had been pacing.

“You can put this in the garbage bin on your way out,” Lee shrugged at Ed’s reluctant acceptance of a tied bag. “My fee. It’s not exactly an all-hands-on-deck environment here.”

Oswald gives the dog several ear scratches, much to their mutual enjoyment.

“There’s something very wrong about how attached he is to that dog,” Barbara catches Lee’s quiet chuckle as she slips off her gloves and moved to find the antibacterial wash. “Oswald, I didn’t realize you were so cheap.”

Oswald’s head snapped towards her, “what?”

“Clean up is hardly enough payback for Lee’s services rendered, don’t you think?” Barbara continued. “Isn’t there something else you could offer her?”

Oswald considered it, he glanced at Ed, seeking approval. It wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world to have a doctor of Lee’s calibre travel with them.

“This secret language between you three isn’t cute,” Lee said after several seconds of observing them share looks. “What?”

“We have a way out of Gotham.” Oswald finally replied.

Lee’s face gave way to her surprise, but she recovered. She looked to Barbara, uncertain, “you’re going with them?”

“Yes,” Barbara shrugged. “Comeuppance for killing Tabby is me interrupting their private getaway for safe passage for myself and the little one.”

“What—are you two together now?” Lee said, wagging a finger between Ed and Oswald.

“No!” Oswald said loudly.

“Maybe,” Ed said quieter.

“Wait, what?” Oswald twisted to look at him.

“Maybe eventually.” Ed continued.

Oswald’s mouth dropped open, then shut, then opened again, then shut.

Lee and Barbara groaned simultaneously.

“Okay, this conversation is going to have to wait, I was sick all of five seconds ago and you two are bringing that feeling back,” Barbara put a hand against her stomach.

“Also, I still need to look after that hand of yours, Oswald. You seemed to have forgotten,” Lee said. “Safe voyage out of this hellhole definitely seems like appropriate payment.”

“We still need to build the damn thing,” Oswald pointed out. “It’s a work in progress.”

“It'll be easier now that I found some worker bees,” a voice said from the doorway. Selina walked the short distance to the bed-frame Barbara was leaning on. She canted her head towards Barbara, “she tasked me to find some, they’ll be at the docks mid-day.”

“Selina is coming too?” Lee asked. “What the hell are you building?”

“A submarine,” the four said at the same time. Barbara and Selina sounded the least excited.

Lee visibly cringed, “that sounds like a cramped escape plan.”

Selina trailed her finger against the metal frame, “it’s not like I promised them they’d get to leave too.”

“Miss Kyle, becoming a fine criminal. I cannot wait to see what the other end of this story has in store for us,” Oswald picked up the dog again, cradling him to his chest, eager to continue _whatever_ truth bomb Ed had—potentially, inadvertently—dropped in this derelict hospital. “If that’ll be all, we must get going.”

“Oswald, sit down and give me your hand,” Lee commanded, Oswald immediately abiding. “You can sort out your marital problems in an hour.”

The dog panted happily, tail wagging, having no idea what was going on around him, but very content to be present.


End file.
